


You Won't Drown With Your Lover

by Ithinkwehaveanemergency



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency/pseuds/Ithinkwehaveanemergency
Summary: "Everyone keeps bugging me about how I don't ever get laid..."  The FBI agent groans.  "Like I don't fucking know that.""My department won't stop trying to set me up with literally every relative they have."  Derek commiserates.  He picks up the shot glass Stiles had pushed toward him just a minute before.  He holds it out toward his former boss' son and sighs.  "To our friends and their lack of tact."OrStiles and Derek get a beer together when Stiles comes back to town.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 289





	You Won't Drown With Your Lover

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at curing writer's block? I guess?
> 
> Title from Of Monsters and Men's "Visitor"

"Hey there, big guy." A voice startles Derek from where he's sitting at the bar waiting for Greenberg to finish closing a young woman's tab. He knows who it is instantly, but he turns around on his barstool just to make sure he's not imagining it. The handsome brunette is wearing a familiar smirk and Derek can't help but smile back. "You come here often?"

Derek is debating saying something embarrassingly flirtatious in return, but he's interrupted before he gets the chance.

"Stilinski!" Greenberg grunts, drawing the attention of the taller men. "Stop scaring away the regulars with your creepy pick up lines. Deputy Hale gets enough of that shit even when you're off at your fancy job."

"Zac." Derek rolls his eyes and waves toward the wolfsbane beer section. "Get me a Mistleclaw."

"A  _ what _ ." Stiles cackles as Zac goes to pour a pint for the man he'd become close friends with over the past couple years.

Both of them ignore Stiles' not-question, and Derek glances at the stool next to him, a clear invitation to sit down. Stiles does, pushing his rolled sleeves up a bit higher as he leans his forearms against the bar.

"Cutting it close on getting to town in time for your dad's retirement party, don't you think?" Derek smiles warmly, looking Stiles over. The man clearly just arrived in town. He's wearing slacks and a pressed button up, and he was probably sporting a tie at some point from the look of his starched collar.

"The party isn't until noon, Derek." Stiles scoffs. Greenberg places the pint in front of the werewolf before looking up at Stiles with an unimpressed arch of his eyebrow. "Loving the beard, Greenberg. Really trying to shake that Bieber thing you had going in high school, aren't ya?"

"Yeah, and you're clearly not trying to shake that asshole thing  _ you  _ had going on, so what about it?"

Derek shouts out a laugh at the sassy remark as Stiles makes a characteristically exaggerated face of affront. Greenberg rolls his eyes and stares expectantly.

"Fuck you, Greenberg. Get me something IPA-y, I dunno." Stiles waves a hand around in a ridiculous flail that makes Derek remember seven years ago with startling clarity. "And a couple shots of that moonshine Scotty keeps telling me about, yeah?"

"You got it, douchebag." Greenberg shakes his head fondly and walks away.

Derek keeps staring until he realizes that he's probably being weird about it.

"It's good to see you. It's been a while." Derek clears his throat and takes a sip of his beer. "Thought we'd see more of you when you took a San Francisco job."

"Yeah, no, I did too!" Stiles sighs and runs a hand through his short, artfully messy hair. "Honestly, I did, but there's just so much involved in setting up a new task force, man. I had no idea I'd be working like… 16 hour days when there isn't even a case."

"Yeesh." Derek winces and Greenberg comes back with the beer and a couple tall shot glasses. He's holding a bottle with purplish clear alcohol in it. Derek grits his teeth and takes a deep breath at the bar owner. "Oh man, alright, I guess it's about time I try this famous stuff."

"You'll like it." Greenberg scoffs and pours the shots before wandering away again to help a new customer.

"I still keep in touch, though! I talk to Lydia and Scott and Malia all the time! Liam and Theo even call. And I used to see you and Jordan and Dad on Skype like…  _ weekly _ , until he stopped working." Stiles points out as he moves the shot glasses closer, putting one in front of himself and one in front of Derek. "They all bug me about working too hard and not having a life."

"Oh man! Right?" Derek's eyes go wide and he puts his hand out in exasperation. "They're always on me about that too!"

Stiles nods enthusiastically, eyes wide as well.

"Everyone keeps bugging me about how I don't ever get laid..." The FBI agent groans. "Like I don't fucking know that."

"My department won't stop trying to set me up with literally  _ every  _ relative they have." Derek commiserates. He picks up the shot glass Stiles had pushed toward him just a minute before. He holds it out toward his former boss' son and sighs. "To our friends and their lack of tact."

Stiles snorts and picks up his shot, locking eyes with the werewolf as he holds the tiny glass next to Derek's.

"To Beacon-fucking-Hills being small enough that everyone knows your business."

Derek lets out a loud, surprised laugh and tinks his shot glass against Stiles' before they both down the warm liquid and grunt in unison at the lukewarm fire passing through their chests.

"That was better than I thought it'd be." Derek frowns in thought as he places the shot glass toward the bartenders side of the wooden countertop.

Stiles snorts again beside him and Derek turns to lock eyes with the younger man.

"That's what she said." Stiles smirks.

Derek blinks in surprise before laughing almost hysterically, one hand shooting out to backhandedly swat at Stiles' chest as he catches his breath.

"Oh my God, you're  _ still so stupid _ ." Derek wheezes as Stiles gasps in mock offense beside him. "You're actually twelve years old, not 21."

Stiles socks Derek in the arm, hard, knowing it won't hurt the werewolf.

"I am twenty-fucking-three, you asswipe." Stiles laughs, taking a giant gulp of his large IPA. He swallows with effort and points at Derek drunkenly, the shot settling into his bloodstream. "At least I'm not turning 30 this month!"

Derek's laughter subsides slowly and he turns to look at Stiles, sober as a wolf on Wolfsbane beer and whiskey can get.

"You remember my birthday?" He asks the prodigal son of Beacon Hills.

Stiles huffs out a laugh of disbelief and shakes his head.

"Of course I do. I was fucking obsessed with you." Stiles giggles to himself before looking up through his lashes. "Or do you not remember?"

Derek forgets how to breathe for a moment and then shakes his head in return.

"No, I do, but…"

The two men stare at each other in silence, breathing heavier than they should be, at least for just sitting, laughing with an old friend at the local Beacon Hills dive.

"Are you-"

Derek stops himself before he can ask what he's been dying to know since Scott texted him an hour ago that Stiles was back and wondering where Derek was at the moment. He looks at the last fifth of a pint of the strong were-beer that Greenberg distributes in his tiny locals only pub. He downs it all in one giant gulp before turning to the wide, coffee colored eyes that seem to be burning into his own.

"Wanna come back to the loft with me?"

Stiles swallows visibly before standing and downing the rest of his own regular, human, strong-as-fuck beer. He sets the empty glass down on the hardwood with a solid  _ thunk _ .

"Close me out, too. I'll meet you outside."

Stiles turns on his heel and stalks toward the entrance, leaving Derek to do exactly as he requested.

*****

Stiles tastes disgusting, like spearmint gum and the nicotine vaporizer he's trying to disguise the flavor of.

"You're ridiculous." Derek huffs into the much leaner (but broader) man's collar. He fumbles with Stiles' jeans as he pins him to the couch. "You know that nothing you can do will hide the nicotine taste."

"Shut up." Stiles groans, arching into the hand that palms his painful, hardening, still denim-trapped length. "I was trying to be-  _ fuck _ . I was trying to be considerate."

"Well don't." Derek growls, tugging Stiles' jeans and boxers down in one aggressive move. "I just won't kiss you. 'Cause it's gross."

"Whatever." Stiles grunts, arching up into the aggressive touch of the former alpha.

Derek whines and drags his cheek across Stiles' chest. The human wails, and yet he arches into the painful scratch of stubble.

"Derek, what-" Stiles hiccups and cries out as Derek gets a hand wrapped fully around his throbbing arousal. " _ Derek _ , what are we doing? Are we… Do you want to fuck me?"

Derek hums and places messy kisses across the reddened flesh where his beard had dragged just moments before.

"I can." Derek pants out, kissing his way up to Stiles' jaw. "I definitely can. That would be so,  _ so _ good. But I'd really rather get  _ you _ inside  _ me _ instead."

"Oh, shit." Stiles gasps before arching up and flipping their positions until he's kneeling above Derek, fingers gripping firm, unyielding biceps. "Your bed? Can we? Can I fuck you in your bed?"

Derek nods vigorously and then shoves Stiles off him before dragging the human up the narrow stairs to his bedroom.

*****

Derek wakes up to the blaring sound of an alarm that isn't his.

"Oh, fuck. I'm  _ so sorry _ ." Stiles' raspy voice groans from beside him and then suddenly Derek has a lap full of mostly-naked full-grown man. Stiles grabs his phone off the dresser and shuts off the offending alarm before giving Derek an apologetic frown. "I set it before we fell asleep the first time, and I totally forgot how loud that would probably be to your poor werewolfy ears, oh my god-"

"Stiles!" Derek interrupts and brings a hand up to the back of Stiles neck. Stiles stares at him, wide awake now, and Derek blinks sleepily. "It's alright. My ears can handle your obnoxious alarm. But I'm not sure my brain can handle your rambling this early."

A grin spreads across Stiles' face, slow and sure and  _ delighted _ . He sits up, straddling Derek's hips. The light of dawn is just barely enough to allow them to see each other clearly.

"Hey." Stiles whispers in a conspiratorial voice. Derek arches a lazy brow in response. Stiles' grin simply gets brighter. "We had  _ sex _ ."

Derek blinks in shock for a moment. He opens his mouth and then closes it, clearly lost for words, before finally shoving Stiles back to the other side of the bed.

"Oh my  _ god _ , I'm going to shower." Derek growls and sits up, throwing the covers off of his legs and getting out of bed. He stalks to the bathroom, grumbling. "You are actually  _ the worst _ . I cannot believe I have a thing for an  _ actual _ 12-year-old. You are  _ unbelievable. _ Why do I like you?"

"Aw, babe!" Stiles calls out after him as he reaches the bathroom. "You have a  _ thing  _ for me? I like you  _ too! _ "

Derek stops and gawks at Stiles.

"I would hope so!" He shouts, much more awake now. "Jesus, Stiles, do you have sex several times in one night with people you _ don't  _ like?"

Stiles just grins dopily after him.

"We're having our first domestic squabble. This is so cute."

Derek sighs and starts the shower. He sheds his underwear and steps in the shower before it's even all the way warm, letting the chill wake him up the rest of the way.

He hears Stiles enter the bathroom before the shower door opens.

"You're insufferable." Derek huffs, struggling to keep the fondness from his voice.

Strong, lean arms circle his waist and a dry chest presses against his wet one, pulling him back part way out of the spray.

"You know, last night…" Stiles mumbles into the nape of his neck, "When I said I've wanted this for so long… I didn't mean the sex, Derek."

Derek's throat goes tight and he swallows, bringing his hands up to rest on Stiles' arms where they're wrapped around him.

"I meant you, Der." Stiles whispers behind Derek's earlobe before pressing a kiss there. "And all jokes aside, I want this. I want  _ us _ , so badly. I hope you want that too, otherwise, this is really embarrassing and you should just let me die in-"

Derek spins around and kisses Stiles firmly on the mouth before pulling away to hug him tight. He sighs into Stiles' shoulder.

"I guess I'll just have to get my sleepy brain used to the rambling, if that's a thing you're going to do every morning."

Stiles relaxes in Derek's grip and after a beat, his body starts shaking with laughter.

Derek laughs along and pulls them under the warm spray of water.

  
  



End file.
